


A New Fantasy

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claquesous notices Montparnasse’s attention is drawn by a student in the street. Of this, he takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Fantasy

Montparnasse hadn’t even paid  _too_  much attention to the creature. The blond had been striding down the street - and not walking, either, no, a creature like this didn’t have the time nor the decency to  _walk_ , he  _strode_ , with purpose, with a furious sort of grace that set Montparnasse’s heart to new palpitations of attraction, and of jealousy. He knew who he was, one of the revolutionary  _students_ , with too much money and too little sense, and this was one of the ones Gavroche liked - Enjolras.

 _Monsieur_  Enjolras, leader of  _les amis de l’ABC_ , and  _gorgeous_. When Montparnasse saw him walk past, he’d stopped, absolutely arrested by the sight of his aristocratic features, his pink lips, his cheek bones, his jaw, his slender form and gorgeous fingers.

“ _Montparnasse_.” Claquesous had elbowed him in the side, nodding with his head, and Montparnasse had shook the thought from his mind, following after Claquesous. Monsieur Enjolras was  _almost_  as pretty as Miljan Montparnasse. Almost. After the student was out of his sight, though, he was out of mind, and Montparnasse forgot about him. _  
_

Claquesous, however, did not forget.

It was later that night he reminded Montparnasse of the way he had paused in the street, when Montparnasse was sat on his lap with his back against Claquesous’ chest, gasping in pretty little breaths as Claquesous’ hand moved on his cock.

Montparnasse tipped his charming little head back, baring his neck, but Claquesous did not bite at the proffered skin as Montparnasse wished him to. Instead, he talked, and his silver tongue was clever, even more so than usual tonight.

"You were looking at him today, that student." He said, and Montparnasse let out a cry as he slowed the movement of his hand, stroking Montparnasse  _teasingly_.  _  
_

"Yes." Montparnasse choked out, because answering Claquesous’ words usually appeased him quicker, and he wished for release.

"He was pretty."

"Not as pretty as me." Montparnasse said immediately, and Claquesous chuckled against Montparnasse’s neck, because tonight he wanted to be cruel, and it was so  _easy_  to be cruel to Montparnasse on nights like this. 

"Do you not think so?" Montparnasse shivered, grasping tightly at the meat of Claquesous’ thighs. "I thought he was  _enchanting_ , Montparnasse. I would like to sample him, I think.”

"He’s as chaste as a nun." The boy said, and there was just a hint, just an  _edge_ , of desperation to his voice as he added, “He would bore you. Not like me.”

"Who’s to say I’m not bored of you now?" Montparnasse let out a noise that was almost a sob, but even as he did, his hips bucked. He enjoyed this, enjoyed this  _humiliation_ , this pin and prick at his esteem. Why? Claquesous did not know. What he did know was that Montparnasse was ever so pretty when he was desperate, and that he rather enjoyed being cruel to the boy. “I should like to fuck him in front of you, Montparnasse. Can you imagine?”

"Imagine him, Montparnasse, that  _student_. Bent over one of his desks, but not studying, oh no, with me buried to the very root inside him, his back as taut as a bow, those pretty lips of his parted - and no, there I concede, they’re not nearly so nice as yours, too pale where yours are so red-” And while he loved to be cruel, the way Montparnasse  _preened_  at the compliment had its own appeal. “Those blue eyes wide, imagine him  _gasping_ , Montparnasse, begging for me to fuck into him a little deeper.”

Montparnasse cried out as Claquesous thumbed over his cockhead, the movement deft. “You’d like to watch that, wouldn’t you? See how  _pretty_  he was, taken apart. I would debase him while you watched, Montparnasse, destroy him, make him ugly with sex and with need and  _paint_  him with my come.” The young thief’s chest was heaving now, his marble cheeks painted red with a blush of blood, and his hips were bucking uncontrollably.

Oh, yes, Montparnasse liked this.

"I’d like you to kiss him, Montparnasse, just for me. Coax those virgin lips to new plumpness with yours, make him sob and cry and beg against your mouth for those slender hands of yours on his length, make his tiny little hips buck and thrust against your thigh." Montparnasse was crying now, tears on his cheeks and shining on that perfect skin for the way Claquesous was holding back his orgasm, hand too slow for Montparnasse to chase his release.

"Please." Montparnasse begged, and the word was choked out. "Please, Claquesous,  _please_ -“

Claquesous was not a merciful man, but on Montparnasse, he took mercy. He sped his hand up, and Montparnasse almost  _howled_ , coming with loud gasps tempered by the tears on his cheeks and the lump in his throat; he went limp atop Claquesous, shaking and pressing against him. 

"I hate it when you do that." Montparnasse whispered, and Claquesous laughed.

"You love it." And Montparnasse did not argue, for he did not lie to Claquesous, and with those three words, the other criminal had spoken more truth than he had in all his life.


End file.
